Postscript to Turtle Time, in which I discover we’ve been seeing the same turtle for six years, not four.
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Postscript: Turtle Time

Camille lives with her soul mate Bob in the back woods of central North Carolina where she hikes, gardens, cooks, and writes.
Postscript to Turtle Time, in which I discover we’ve been seeing the same turtle for six years, not four.
A turtle walks into the yard and lifts the day.
Celebrating spring and community in the woods, with stops for refreshments.
Given the firehose of outrages spewing from Washington, I feel I should take to the streets in protest, but I wouldn’t know what to write on my cardboard sign.
I thought that by focusing on small, joyful things, I might minimize the horror building in my chest.